While taking a break during a work day that included me skipping lunch (I’m missing meals, but getting fatter. Go figure…), I decided to go to Foster’s Market in Chapel Hill to satisfy my sweet tooth (OK, that probably explains a lot).
I purchased a brownie and beverage from Foster's and then drove back to work where a dozen or so e-mails were awaiting a response. After responding to e-mails for about 30 minutes, I remembered, “Hey, I got a brownie!”
Pulled off the plastic wrapping and took a bite.
“WWWHHHOOOAAA...”
The brownie had that homemade richness – you know, that taste that screams “I don’t care how much or how many calories it takes for it to taste scrumptious!”
For me, it took me back to the days of going by my great-grandmother’s house in Mobile, Alabama’s Roger Williams Project as a youngster…I’m talking 5- or 6-years-old youngster…and always being greeted by some of her fudge goodness.
My great-grandmother, Irene, was the best.
Like really.
She was the best great-grandmother any kid could ask for.
Whether it was my mom bringing me my sister, CC, by just for a few minutes to say “Hi” or my dad bringing us over to hang for a while, Big Mama – as we called her – always greeted us with a warm, teeth-filled smile (“Heeeeyyyyy Baby!”) and some baked, hard fudge in a plastic bag.
It felt as if even when we showed up unannounced she knew we were coming and had fresh baked fudge for us. We could’ve been minutes away from eating dinner, but Mama or Daddy would let us devour the fudge anyway; and on the chance she didn’t have any fudge for us, she would always have a freeze cup (literally, a cup of frozen Kool-Aid) in the freezer just waiting for us.
Big Mama always made time for us. We were kids, but she always made us feel so important when we were in her presence. She always made us feel welcomed. She always kept our stomachs filled and our sweet tooth happy. She cared. She was the quintessential Big Mama.
Needless to say, I was pretty sad when Big Mama passed away when I was eight years old.
I later learned – not too long ago, actually – that Big Mama was the "candy lady" in the area of Roger Williams that she lived in. She always had those goodies because she sold it to help her get by. That doesn’t take away from my memories of her. I mean, she didn’t have to give them to me and CC for free!
I don’t write this just to shout out my own Big Mama…even though she was the best…but as an ode to all Big Mamas whether they were just a grandmother, an aunt, or a neighbor that held their matriarchal position in the community. All of the Big Mamas that were able to brighten up a kid’s day and ALWAYS had the ability to keep a kid in line through use of words or the rod.
With so many youngsters straight wilin’ in the streets and terrorizing communities, we can use more Big Mamas to be there for these kids that obviously feel hopeless and lost.
I’m just thankful that I had a great Big Mama coming up. When I was around her, I always felt at home.
I purchased a brownie and beverage from Foster's and then drove back to work where a dozen or so e-mails were awaiting a response. After responding to e-mails for about 30 minutes, I remembered, “Hey, I got a brownie!”
Pulled off the plastic wrapping and took a bite.
“WWWHHHOOOAAA...”
The brownie had that homemade richness – you know, that taste that screams “I don’t care how much or how many calories it takes for it to taste scrumptious!”
For me, it took me back to the days of going by my great-grandmother’s house in Mobile, Alabama’s Roger Williams Project as a youngster…I’m talking 5- or 6-years-old youngster…and always being greeted by some of her fudge goodness.
My great-grandmother, Irene, was the best.
Like really.
She was the best great-grandmother any kid could ask for.
Whether it was my mom bringing me my sister, CC, by just for a few minutes to say “Hi” or my dad bringing us over to hang for a while, Big Mama – as we called her – always greeted us with a warm, teeth-filled smile (“Heeeeyyyyy Baby!”) and some baked, hard fudge in a plastic bag.
It felt as if even when we showed up unannounced she knew we were coming and had fresh baked fudge for us. We could’ve been minutes away from eating dinner, but Mama or Daddy would let us devour the fudge anyway; and on the chance she didn’t have any fudge for us, she would always have a freeze cup (literally, a cup of frozen Kool-Aid) in the freezer just waiting for us.
Big Mama always made time for us. We were kids, but she always made us feel so important when we were in her presence. She always made us feel welcomed. She always kept our stomachs filled and our sweet tooth happy. She cared. She was the quintessential Big Mama.
Needless to say, I was pretty sad when Big Mama passed away when I was eight years old.
I later learned – not too long ago, actually – that Big Mama was the "candy lady" in the area of Roger Williams that she lived in. She always had those goodies because she sold it to help her get by. That doesn’t take away from my memories of her. I mean, she didn’t have to give them to me and CC for free!
I don’t write this just to shout out my own Big Mama…even though she was the best…but as an ode to all Big Mamas whether they were just a grandmother, an aunt, or a neighbor that held their matriarchal position in the community. All of the Big Mamas that were able to brighten up a kid’s day and ALWAYS had the ability to keep a kid in line through use of words or the rod.
With so many youngsters straight wilin’ in the streets and terrorizing communities, we can use more Big Mamas to be there for these kids that obviously feel hopeless and lost.
I’m just thankful that I had a great Big Mama coming up. When I was around her, I always felt at home.
